


Watching

by rowofstars



Series: Watching [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Angst, Consensual, F/M, Masturbation, Smut, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-02
Updated: 2015-09-02
Packaged: 2018-04-18 16:28:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4712699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowofstars/pseuds/rowofstars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt at rumbelleprompts: Belle spots her neighbor Mr. Gold peeping on her and decides to give him a show.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watching

**Author's Note:**

> I am aware that there is another fic which has used this same prompt. I have not read the fic in question, but I am told by someone who has read both, that mine is different enough, so this should be okay. If anyone has a problem with this, please come talk to me either here or on Tumblr. If it matters, I started this fic the same night the prompt was posted on Tumblr, it's just taken me a while to have time to get it done.

For the last few days Belle had been feeling, well, _blah_ was the only way she could describe it.

A night in had seemed like a wonderful idea when she left her job at the library. She’d turned down her friends Ruby and Ashley and their invitation to go out drinking. Thirsty Thursday, Ruby called it, but Belle didn’t feel like being around people. Instead, she planned a relaxing evening of pampering herself and reading. She’d drawn a bath, added a lightly scented rose oil, and sank into the blissfully hot water with one of her favorite books. Except she’d barely read a whole chapter, unable to focus on the words for long enough before her mind wandered.

Deep down, Belle knew the real reason she was in this funk was due to her pathetic, failed attempt at flirting with her neighbor, Mr. Gold.

He’d come to the library on Monday, as he always did, arriving just before her lunch time. He always returned the book he’d borrowed the previous week, often at her recommendation, and they’d exchanged the usual pleasantries. This time, she’d felt a little more daring, and touched his hand where it rested on the counter. He didn’t shrug off her touch, so, on a whim, she’d asked him if he’d like to have lunch with her. It all fell apart from there.

He’d seemed surprised at first, tried to stammer out a polite refusal, but then he’d just shut down and rather rudely left. It was anything but the sweet smile and acceptance she’d imagined in the scenarios in her head, and a long way from the steamy follow up she sometimes pictured with her hand between her thighs. Since then he’d avoided saying anything to her or acknowledging her in any way, even though they lived right next to each other and left their houses at the exact same time every day.

Well, every day except today. Today she was out the door a few minutes earlier than usual, hoping to linger for a bit and catch him, but his black Cadillac was already gone.

Sighing, Belle yanked the plug on the bath, her wet skin squeaking against the sides of the claw foot tub as she pushed herself up. She’d already failed at reading the last chapter of her book and played two games of Mahjong on hard mode on her phone, both of which she’d lost. The water was still warm, but if she stayed in it any longer she’d wrinkle.

After drying herself off, she slathered on some lotion and went through her normal nightly beauty routine. She found herself staring in the mirror, frowning slightly and turning this way and that. For the most part she was okay with what she saw, and she figured everyone always amplified their flaws, real or imagined. Still, it had felt like ages since she’d felt truly beautiful, sexy, been adored by someone.

Smiling a little, she glanced at the neatly folded lingerie sitting on the vanity.

Tonight she wanted to feel pretty and sexy and special, and she didn’t care if it was only for herself. If all she did was walk around in her bedroom and sit in bed and read with the TV volume on low, it was still one of the better nights she’d had in a while.

The panties were a sheer fabric with a wide lace band at the top, and as she slid them up her legs she could feel that telltale shiver ripple through her body. She slipped the babydoll over her head and adjusted it over her chest, refusing to think about how her breasts were too small to fill it out the way she might like. The silk was cool against her skin and heat pooled in her belly as she ran her hands over it.

It was something her ex-boyfriend, Gary, wouldn’t have liked much. He preferred anything that was skimpy and barely held together with strings. Everything he’d bought her didn’t make her feel sexy, it made her feel like she was on display, pure eye candy. He bought it for himself not for her, not really. But this? This was a splurge. She bought it two weeks before she kicked him out of their tiny shared apartment.

When Belle was staring at it in the store, she already knew she was going to break it off with Gary. She told herself that she was buying it for herself, to wear for a man who deserved to see her in it, who would appreciate it because _she_ liked it, because it made _her_ feel good to wear it for him.

She turned this way and that in front of the mirror, smiling a little at her reflection. She ran her fingers through her hair, still a little damp from when she’d washed it before her bath, and arranged it over her shoulders. Her thighs pressed together as a familiar ache grew.

Idly, she wondered if Gold would like what he saw.

Was it silly to feel this way about a man she barely had a friendship with, who kept so much of himself inside? Every little thing she had learned about him in the past two years only made her want to know more, want to steal every little secret of himself that he would give her.

All she could think about sometimes were his eyes and his hands and those infuriatingly sexy, well tailored suits. He told her once that he went all the way to Boston for them, and damn was it worth it. There was a day, a few weeks ago, when she’d been in his shop and he’d shown her a first edition that needed repair. They spent several minutes discussing restoration methods and bindings, when he’d shrugged off his suit jacket. She’d nearly fallen off the stool when she saw the arm garters and the subtle floral pattern of his blue shirt, a touch of flamboyance and style that he hid under a plain black jacket.

Shaking her head, Belle slipped on the matching black silk robe, opened the bathroom door, and flipped off the light on way into her room. The thrum between her thighs made her head straight for her bed, stopping only when she felt a cool breeze whisper over her heated skin.

She turned and frowned, seeing the window and the curtains were still open. Her eyes lifted a little and then went wide. Across the space between their houses, she could see Gold’s window and curtains were open as well.

And he was looking right at her.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Gold sighed and reached for the remote, clicking off the TV as he used his cane to push to his feet.

He dropped the remote on the coffee table and ambled to the kitchen, where he finished cleaning up from his meager dinner. He’d been too preoccupied to eat, again, his mind constantly replaying that moment in the library. When Belle had invited him to lunch he hadn't known what to say. He thought for sure it was just as friends, that perhaps she just wanted to thank him for helping with the funding for the children's section of the library. 

But he wanted it to be so much more. For a brief moment he hoped, he hoped and he thought maybe if he said yes there would be a moment when he could tell her how he felt. Then reality set in, and he knew he'd make a fool of himself.

He’d fucked up by leaving the way he did, he knew that, but maybe if he had said something the next day he could have fixed it.

Except he didn’t.

No, he’d let it go. He let things go back to normal and passed off Miss French’s invitation as a momentary lapse in her sanity. She said it just to be nice, to be friendly, he thought. They were neighbors after all, and they did have something that resembled friendship. It wasn’t what he wanted, but he couldn’t blame her. It was enough that she lived in the house next to the town monster, saving a kind smile and friendly conversation for him a few times a week.

A grunt escaped him as he took the first step up the stairs. His knee was aching more than usual, probably due more to his foul mood than anything else, and he rubbed at it before taking another step. 

He remembered weeks ago when he’d invited her to his shop to look at a very special first edition he'd acquired, and to seek her advice on repairing and restoring it. She had been more than helpful, and before either of them knew it they were side by side, bent over his work table in the back of the shop. Her hair smelled like flowers and her fingers were so soft when they brushed the back of his hand or over his shoulder. His chest felt suddenly tight, welling up with a deep aching longing for the quiet contact of another person, for tea on Sunday mornings and nights curled up on the sofa.

He shook his head and gripped the railing harder with his left hand as his right braced on the cane. It wasn’t appropriate to think of her in that way, not his Belle.

 _His_ Belle.

There was another thing he needed to stop.

It had started that day in his shop, and in those small moments it had felt almost true. But that had come to screeching halt when he saw her with the Scarlet boy last week. They were standing outside the library, smiling and chatting, Will’s hand on her shoulder. At first he didn’t think she would see anything in a man like that, someone who had been in jail for every petty crime known to man. But of course Belle could see the good in anyone. 

Gold sighed again at the top of the stairs and made his way down the hall to his bedroom.

The old Victorian house had so many rooms, but he really only used three plus the kitchen. So many closed windows and curtains, antique furniture gathering dust in rooms with the doors shut. He was a lonely, hated, pathetic old man, and Will was young and dangerous. Maybe that was even why Belle liked him, maybe she wanted that little bit of thrill.

He rolled his neck as he stepped into the room, and loosened his tie. That was when he realized he left his suit jacket downstairs. With a huff, he moved across the room to lay his tie on his dresser and decided his knee wouldn’t take another trip down and back up the stairs. He could just wear the same one tomorrow.

It wasn’t like anyone noticed what he wore.

As he turned from the dresser, he felt cool air on his face, and frowned. The window was still open from this morning, the curtains held wide, caught in the hooks to either side of the moldings. He stepped closer, reaching up to shut the window, but froze.

There was someone in the window of Belle’s house.

His eyebrows rose and his eyes went wide as he realized the someone was Belle.

Belle in something black and short.

And she was looking straight at him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Gold moved to shut the window, but as he pulled down the old wood creaked and stuck.

He tried not to look at Belle again, but when he did, she hadn’t moved. She was framed in the window, the warm glow of her bedroom lights illuminating her like some kind of angel. He inhaled a shaky breath, and lowered his hand to his side, waiting.

Belle’s first instinct was to shut the curtains and hide, and the flush creeping up her neck, warming her face, encouraged just that. But Gold hadn’t moved. He had tried to close the window, but then stopped, and now he was looking right at her.

She swallowed and licked her lips as a naughty idea formed in her head, one that would leave no doubt in his mind about how she felt and what she wanted. Her fingers brushed her hair back and then caught the edge of her robe. They trailed down to the knot at her waist and slipped it open, revealing a little of what was underneath.

At that she saw Gold step back, and she thought perhaps she had the wrong idea. What if he called the sheriff on her? Wasn’t this some kind of indecent exposure?

Oh _god_ what was she thinking?

But then he didn’t move away entirely, just back a bit into the shadow of his dimly lit room. He was still watching. Somehow she could feel it, his eyes on her and the heat of his stare. The robe slipped from her shoulders, landing at her feet, and she stopped, just standing there in the window.

Gold’s mouth went dry.

He didn’t understand what was happening, but Belle was apparently taking off her - well he couldn’t really call _that_ clothing. Even though he couldn’t see it as clear as he would like, he could tell it was black and lacy, probably silk too. The library didn’t pay that well, but he knew Belle liked the finer things.

She took a slow, deep breath and tried to figure out what to do next. Glancing to the side, she saw her reading chair, and smiled. It was easy to turn it around and face it towards the window without moving anything else. She sat down and ran her hands along the smooth wood arms, then down and over the tops of her thighs to her knees.

Belle shifted back in the chair, trying to calm herself for what she was about to do next. She spread her legs, locking her feet around the legs to keep from shaking. One had trailed down her body, fingertips grazing her lips, her neck, her collarbone, and down between her breasts. The other gripped the arm of the chair so tight her knuckles were white.

Could she do this?

It wasn’t as if she hadn’t brought herself off to thoughts of him before, but this was entirely different. This time he would _know_ , and he would watch.

She saw Gold step closer to the window, out of the shadows he’d tried to retreat into just a few moments ago. Licking her lips, she decided that she could, and if he ran away, well then she’d know for sure that he wasn’t the least bit interested. But if he watched… well then she’d figure out a way to deal with that tomorrow.

She cupped her breasts with both hands, squeezing them gently, rubbing the hardening peaks with her thumbs. She sucked in a breath and let out a low little noise. Her right hand eased down her torso, drifted along the bottom edge of the babydoll, toying with the hem. Her left hand stayed at her breast, teasing herself through the lace, rubbing it against her pebbled nipple.

Gold shut his eyes and let out a quiet groan.

He shook his head unable to believe what he was seeing. Belle was touching herself. And letting him watch. She hadn’t closed the window or her curtains, she hadn’t shouted at him to leave. He didn’t understand. Was this some kind of test? Did she want proof he was just a terrible, monstrous old man who would watch his beautiful, young neighbor -

He looked up and saw her hand at her breast, moving slowly, her other hand lower, playing with the edge of the lingerie she was wearing. He licked his lips and gripped his cane tighter, his free hand curling into a fist at his side. The urge to be there with her was overwhelming. He wanted to touch her so badly, as much or as little as she would allow him. He would take whatever she would give.

After a minute or so, when Gold looked back to her, she lifted the hem up until her knickers were exposed. Then her hand pressed between her legs, the heel of her palm giving just enough friction to make her hips lift off the chair, unconsciously seeking more. Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip as she toyed with herself through the quickly soaking material, the thumb of her other hand moving harder against her sensitive nipple. 

She wondered if he would tease her, make her wait for him, beg for him. No, she thought, he would be the perfect gentleman even then, he’d want to take his time, but he wouldn’t leave her wanting. 

She watched him watching her. Every light in her bedroom was on, he could see everything she was doing but she could only see his silhouette in the frame of the window. She felt like she was on display, but instead of it frightening her or making her feel cheap, she reveled in it. She felt beautiful and desired for the first time in ages, maybe ever.

Gold clenched his jaw, his breathing shallow and fast. He was hard in his trousers, his cock straining against the zipper, the wide leather belt an unwelcome pressure. He didn’t dare open it, or touch, or even move. If he did it might disrupt whatever fever dream he must be in right now. That was the only possible explanation that made any sense. It certainly couldn’t be because Belle French felt anything more than friendship for him, that she could want him that way.

Could it?

Plucking and playing, the twinges of pleasure stoked the fire between her legs, making her impatient. She knew she wasn’t going to last long. Her head fell back and she moaned as her hand slipped under the edge of her panties. She thought about removing them, but somehow this was better. He’d have to fill in the blanks, wonder what her naughty fingers were doing in there, and, she hoped, wished it were his hand instead.

Belle’s fingers slid over her clit, dipping down to her entrance to feel the sticky, slick arousal gathered there. She circled the edge lightly, teasing herself with the penetration she most desired, then pulled away to brush over her swollen nub again.

She shifted lower, scooting her hips to the edge of the seat and tugged hard on her nipple, pinching until she gasped. Her fingers moved faster and a little harder, pressing on the fleshy hood of her clit. She was too aroused, too sensitive to touch it directly. But her fingertips circled and circled over and beside it, rubbing until she was as close as she could get.

She whimpered, biting her lip to keep from crying out, keeping her eyes fixed out the window, on her would be lover across the narrow space between their houses. The window was still open and she knew he could probably hear her, but she didn’t want anyone else to hear as well. This was just for Gold. 

Then she shoved two fingers inside, curling them as she ground the palm of her hand against her mound. Pleasure thrummed in her veins, coiled low in her belly until her breath left her and her mouth fell open. Her throat felt tight, her thighs ached, and her fingers were buried as far inside as she could get them. 

Her eyes went wide, her teeth dug into her lip as everything tensed. She felt her body squeeze her fingers, the tingling wave that rushed over her from head to curling toes, but she didn’t stop moving her fingers or rocking her hips into her hand until every last bit of her orgasm had left her.

Gold was leaning heavily on his cane, squeezing the handle so tight he could feel the scrollwork on the sides leaving impressions on his fingers. His other hand held the window frame, fighting to keep from reaching for his straining cock, to yank down the zipper of his trousers and let Belle see him take himself in his hand. Would she like that? Would she want to see him touching himself while he watched her?

He heard another high pitched cry and then her head came forward again, her eyes closed, mouth hanging open as she panted. He could see her hand moving faster, imagined she was rubbing herself hard and fast, exactly the way she wanted him to fuck her. Her other hand rubbed and squeezed her breast through the lace and silk. 

And then she was looking right at him, biting her lip to keep from crying out again. He imagined her legs shaking, the soft fluttering of her sweet cunt around his cock right before her whole body tensed up and squeezed him for all he was worth. Would she dig her nails into his back, he wondered? Would she tear at his skin and leave marks that claimed him as hers? _God_ did he want to be hers. 

There was another noise, her mouth working like she was trying to say something, and it hit him in that moment that she was coming. She was coming right now, looking at him and maybe saying his name.

 _Fuck_.

She’d come thinking about him, touching herself for him while he watched her from barely ten feet away.

He groaned as a warm wetness spread over the front of his trousers, a sticky heat that made his boxers cling to him, and his eyes slipped shut. He leaned into the molding around the window, panting as Belle had been with the force of his orgasm.

Oh god, he’d just come in his trousers like a teenager.

His eyes blinked open and he caught her gaze. She was still looking at him and he knew she knew. She’d watched him come.

She sat upright, breathing hard, and marveled at what she’d just done.

Looking out the window she could see Gold, slumped to the side. She knew he’d come hard, could see it in the way his whole body looked relaxed and like he’d fall over if the window frame wasn’t supporting him. He hadn’t even touched himself.

_Fuck._

On impulse she sucked her fingers in her mouth, tasting her own sticky sweetness, and watched as he leaned his forehead against the window, tilted down, and she imaged his eyes were closed. When he looked up again, she pushed herself to her feet and walked to the window on shaky legs.

She stood in the middle of the window with her hands braced on either side, and took a deep, steadying breath.

“Good night, Mr. Gold,” she said.

Then she pulled the window down, closing it, and flipped the latch. She paused again, looking across at him to see he hadn’t moved at all, then she took hold of the curtains and pulled them shut.

Gold let out a sigh and forced himself upright before pulling his own curtains shut. He left the window open, needing the cooler air to help calm his overheated body. Dazed both from what he just watched and the lingering effects of his orgasm, he sunk down on the side of the bed and stared at the floor.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning, Belle awoke before her alarm.

She stretched languidly, arching her back and smiling as she remembered what had happened last night. She pressed her hands over her face and shook her head. It was almost too unbelievable. She had no idea where the guts to do such a thing had come from, only that she didn’t regret it. It had also given her the best sleep she’d had in a while.

Climbing out of bed, she moved towards the bathroom, stopping by the window to stare at it. A shiver went through her as she saw the chair still facing the glass. After closing the curtains it was all she could do to clean herself up and get into bed. She smiled again as she hurried into the ensuite to get ready for work.

Belle glanced at the clock in her kitchen and saw it was still before seven. Gold would be leaving any minute now. Today he wouldn’t ignore her. Today he would know exactly how she felt. Smiling again, she slipped on her heels and went out the front door, bounding down the steps to her car. Looking over at Gold’s house her smile faded. 

His Cadillac was gone.

Frowning, she thought maybe he was as anxious as she was and had gotten up early too. Maybe he was at the shop already, making tea in the backroom. Maybe she’d just have to join him. 

A few minutes later she was parked by the library. Fighting a smile, she looked across the street to Gold’s shop. She couldn’t see his car parked in the back of the alley next to the building, but that didn’t mean anything necessarily.

She swallowed and crossed the street, her heart sinking as she saw the lights off and the sign flipped on the front door.

Closed.


End file.
